Thicker than Water
by LaLaina
Summary: Eragon's loyalty is being questioned not only by the Varden but also by himself when he brings his mortally wounded brother behind enemy lines ...
1. I

The bright blue of the sky filled Eragon's view. Wind blew around him and completed the feeling of total freedom. The freedom he could only reach when he was on Saphira's back, flying hundreds of miles above the ground. But Eragon knew that as soon as Saphira's paws touched the ground, he and his dragon had duties to attend to. They had a war to win, an army to lead, and a brother to defeat.

Pain filled Eragon's heart when he thought about his half-brother. He knew that he shouldn't blame himself but it felt like everything that happened was because of him, Eragon. The twins only captured Murtagh because he was Eragon's best friend and could possibly have to Galbatorix valuable information. But he didn't even had to go that far. It was Eragon's fault that Murtagh was with the Varden in the first place.

'_You're thinking about him again, aren't you?' _he heard Saphira's soft voice in his head. He sighed and nodded. She could always feel when he thought about his greatest failure.  
_'It wasn't your fault, Eragon. They wanted him not only because he was your friend. He is Galbatorix's property; he always was, even then. He wanted him back, Murtagh is too valuable. He is Morzan's son.'_

Yes, of course Saphira was right. She was always right. But that didn't stop Eragon from blaming himself for letting his best and only friend down. It was still his fault and it would always be. Nothing anyone said would change this.

Saphira's low growl pulled Eragon out of his self-pity.  
"What's the problem, Saphira?" He got her answer in form of a picture of the desert underneath them. Her sharp eyes had spotted a big ruby elevation and both of them recognized it immediately as Thorn, his brother's dragon. But both of them could see that the normally tall dragon was not standing but lying crumbled on the ground, unprotected and easily visible from afar. Something must be terribly wrong.

Saphira was obviously thinking the same thing because she shot with scaled wings down to the ground and in the direction of the red dragon. When Saphira landed with a loud strike of her tail, Thorn lifted his head a few inches. When he saw them he didn't growl, he just looked at them with sad and defeated eyes. Eragon was taken aback by the hopelessness that could be seen in those big eyes.

But the blood red eyes closed and Thorn's head sank back on his folded legs. Eragon heard the tired voice of the dragon in his head.  
_'Finish what he started. Won't take you long.' _The finality in the voice shocked Eragon. He had never imagined such a giant animal, full of the greatest power, giving up.

But when he approached the still dragon, he understood Thorn's reason. The wings that were protective folded over his body had lots of scraps and wounds. Blood floated freely from them. Eragon could see one particular large wound that reached from the left shoulder of the injured dragon down to the right side of the belly. Eragon flinched. There was only one thing that could create such a wound: a dragon claw.

'_Who did this to you, Thorn?' _asked Saphira, oblivious to the answer. Thorn's left eye opened and a red and a blue gaze met when he answered.  
_'Shruikan.' _Saphira stared at the red dragon. Eragon could feel her disbelief. The fact that another dragon hurt Thorn so badly hit her hard. She always loathed humans for doing that, for harming each other. She didn't understand how they could harm their own species. She always looked over all the times she fought Thorn and said that they were force to do this by Galbatorix. But now the proof, that her race was never better than the other, was lying right in front of her. And it made her sick.

All their thoughts were interrupted by Thorn's painful scream. It was a cry full of pure agony. To listeners it must sound like a wounded animal that took his last breathes. But Eragon who shared and understood the bond that connected Thorn to his rider recognized the pain as the rider's pain, not the dragons. Worry gripped Eragon's heart. In the back of his mind a small voice told him that he shouldn't worry for his enemy's well being but the feelings for his brother quieted the voice quickly.

"Where is your rider? Where is Murtagh?" asked Eragon. Saphira shot him a surprised look when she heard the hardly hold back panic in her rider's voice. But nothing mattered to Eragon in this moment. All he could think about was the absence of his older brother.

Thorn's eyes opened again and looked at Eragon. Never in his until now short but bloody life had Eragon seen anything as sad as this before. Thorn's eyes looked hunted and lost, but most of all they were pleading and he could see that Thorn feared that his plea would be dismissed.  
_'Help him, please!' _he said and lifted his wings carefully.

And underneath the huge red wing lay a motionless form. Eragon recognized his older brother and once best friend immediately but the condition he was in made Eragon stumble back. Murtagh's once white shirt was now almost stained black by his blood. Eragon couldn't see where Murtagh was injured since the whole shirt was soaked. But the mass of the blood told him already that there was no hope for the older boy. Nobody, at least not he and his friends were able to help his brother. It was a wonder that Murtagh was still alive.

The moment the shock wore off, Eragon rushed over to the injured man. He pressed his fingers against Murtagh's throat and felt for a pulse. Red shining eyes followed every movement that was made around the Red Rider. Eragon felt them boring in his head when Thorn longed for eye contact. But Eragon's whole mind was focused on the still body in front of him. Panic started to rise in Eragon when there was nothing underneath his searching fingers.

He continued to press his palm against Murtagh's neck while beginning to speak to his not corresponding friend.  
"Murtagh? Murtagh! Come on, don't do this to me! Come back here now! Murtagh!" He stared in the handsome face and gulped. He couldn't let him die, he had to be alive!

And just when the thoughts of losing his friend threatened to overrun him, he felt the faint heartbeat pulsing against his fingers. It was so weak that he first thought that he had imagined it but a few seconds later he realized that it really was what he was searching for.

With his hands still on the other's throat he tried to transfer some of his energy into the weak body. It was a useless effort since his brother's body was stripped of all its power and absorbed his energy like a black hole. The energy transfer would do neither of them any good.

The only possibility to safe Murtagh's life was to get him to strong and powerful healers. He had to bring him to the Varden. Just the thought made Eragon shudder. What would his army say? His allies? His friends? And most important what would Nasuada say when he brought the enemy home? But he had no choice.

Carefully he ripped Murtagh's shirt open. And the sight took his breath away. Only a sword could have torn Murtagh's stomach open like this. And Eragon could see that the sword's target had been Murtagh's heart, which would have led to his immediate death. It had not succeeded, not yet at least. He was still breathing, faint and not constant but he was.

He didn't dare touching the wound. Instead he turned to Thorn.  
"If you want him to have a chance of surviving, you have to let me take him to the Varden. He won't be in any danger, I swear. I'll look out for him. He will be safe with me." he tried to reassure not only the dragon, but himself too. Nothing would happen when Murtagh was in his care and he would be no threat to the Varden in the condition he was in.

Thorn nodded slowly but his eyes never left his rider when Eragon carefully slid his arms under Murtagh's knees and his back and lifted the older boy. With surprise Eragon noted that he was lighter than he thought. Murtagh was way too light for his own health. Someone – probably Galbatorix himself – made sure that Murtagh starved. Tears shot up in Eragon's eyes when he thought about the cruelty his brother had to endure under Galbatorix's imprisonment. And in the back of his mind the small voice of blame spoke up again.

Saphira crouched down to make it easier for Eragon to mound his dragon. He sat himself in the saddle, then laid Murtagh over Saphira's neck and tried to get a good hold on the young man. Murtagh's dark head lolled back until it came to rest against Eragon's chest. Carefully he brushed a black strand off the cold forehead. Murtagh didn't react to the touch.

Eragon turned to look at Thorn.  
"I'll send Saphira back to you as soon as we arrive at the camp. And I'll send a healer, too." he said when Saphira got ready to depart. Thorn rested now on the less hurt left side of his body.  
_'Just … help him.' _he said, close to the healing sleep. And with that, Saphira made a jump and they were gliding through the cold air.

Eragon could already see the camp of the Varden; they wouldn't take long to get there. And then the real trouble would begin. Eragon didn't dare thinking about it. He brought the enemy behind their lines directly in their middle.

Speed could decide over life and death at the moment. And Saphira didn't let her rider down. Just after a few minutes in the air, she was getting ready to land again. Eragon could see that she was dropping in the direction of Nasuada's tent. She obviously thought that the Varden's leader would be the best option in their situation. Eragon couldn't disagree with that. He knew that there happened more between Murtagh and Nasuada in the time he was with the Varden than they admitted. But he hesitated to extradite the helpless man to his enemies.

But he had no time to react because the instant Saphira's paws touched the ground, an elegant and confident young woman stormed out of the tent.  
"Eragon, what's the matter? I awaited you back later because I thought you wan…" she stopped at the sight in front of her. Her eyes grew wide and her hands came up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my God! What happened?" she asked with sharp voice. Eragon didn't answer. He slipped off Saphira's back, pulling the lifeless form of his brother with him. He turned to his Lady who just stared at them. The sight that he offered must be vicious: covered in dark blood with his dying brother, his _enemy_ in his arms.

He met Nasuada's normally soft but now terrified dark brown eyes.  
"I need healers. Quickly! He is dying." And the Varden leader turned, hurrying to save the life of the Red Rider, their worst enemy, her love and the Blue Rider's blood and soul brother.

* * *

**_A/N: Heyy guys_**

**_This is my very first Eragon fanfic and I have to admit that it has been years since I read the Eragon books. I don't remember everything and I really don't want to read all 3 books again, so if I make a severe mistake please let me know and I will change it._**

**_And you probably figured it out: I'm a huge Murtagh fan! He is the only reason why I'm still loyal to the Inheritance Cycle..._**

**_Please let me know if I should continue, since I'm very unsure of my work with Eragon_**

**_Thanks,  
LaLaina _**


	2. II

Chapter 2:

The young Varden leader stormed through the camp, not pausing to listen to anyone shouting. She knew that she was eyed curiously by everyone. It was not common to see the Lady running around, ignoring everybody who needed her help. But she didn't care. She couldn't get the picture of the blood covered Eragon with the wounded young man in his arms out of her mind.

The young man that was once his best friend. The one who meant so much to her. Who endured so much pain while in the hands of Galbatorix. Who turned against them. Who now was her enemy. And the one that she still loved.

Nasuada ran even faster at that thought, trying to reach the healers before it was too late. Eragon would never forgive her if she was. Nasuada would never forgive herself if she was the reason of Murtagh dying. This thought pushed her along as she ran.

She reached the Healer's tent and burst through the curtain that hung in front of it. Two women were inside and mixed herbs. Both of them looked up when Nasuada came to a sliding stop. They looked bewildered at their panting leader.

"My Lady, what is the matter?" asked Angela slightly worried. Everybody knew that their queen was far too busy to visit every injured member of their army. She tried to but with the threat of the attack of the Red Rider, Nasuada had stopped the visits. If she was here, that must mean someone important must have been hurt.

The shocked impression of the young woman next to Angela made Nasuada guess that she looked extremely out of character at the moment. She just ran through half of the camp and was now standing wide-eyed and breath-catching in the healer's tent. Not a very noble appearance.

But she didn't care! Murtagh was dying!

"I need … you. Rider … badly wounded. … He is … dying!" she said between taking huge gulps of air. The women stared at her with an expression of disbelief on their faces.

"Eragon? What happened?" asked the girl incredulously, but she didn't get an answer since Nasuada was already storming out of the tent again behind Angela. The girl followed the two rushing woman, scared to death for her Rider's well-being.

Nasuada ran behind Angela and directed her in the direction of her tent. Eragon would probably take Murtagh there where they were safe from unwanted spectators.

Nasuada heard someone yell her name behind her, but she didn't stopped to turn and look, she just continued her way back to the Riders. A slender figure appeared next to Nasuada, keeping up with her pace.

"My Lady, what's happening? Where are you going? I saw you running, and then followed by healers returning. Did something happen to Eragon?" asked the dark and melodic voice of an elf. Nasuada looked over to Arya and saw worry flashing in her shining green eyes. Nasuada knew that the elf cared deeply for her Rider, but she had not enough air in her lungs to ease the worries of the woman next to her. Not when her own heart almost broke because of the uncertainty of Murtagh's condition.

So she just shook her head and motioned Arya to follow her. And the four women hurried through the large Varden camp, followed by hundreds of eyes of confused soldiers. They soon arrived at Nasuada's large tent. Eragon was nowhere to be seen, he was probably already in her tent.

She motioned the three women into her tent, and then followed them. The dark surrounded her when she stepped into the tent and dusty air filled her lungs. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw the figure crouched over her bed, softly whispering into the ear of the boy who lay on it.

* * *

Eragon looked after Nasuada when she turned and ran. He knew that she would do her best to help Murtagh. Because even though the Red Rider was the traitor and enemy, they still cared for him. They once saw him as an ally, and even now they still considered him a friend.

Eragon looked down on his 'friend'. His pale skin and raging breath were alarming, but what made Eragon even more nervous was the otherwise complete stillness of his brother's body. It seemed that Murtagh had already given up the fight of surviving and his body had shut down to save him from the agony. But Eragon wasn't willing to give up yet. He lost Murtagh once, he wouldn't let it happen a second time.

'_Saphira, you should go back to Thorn. He is out there all alone and he is wounded. I follow as soon as we know more about Murtagh's condition with a healer.'_ contacted Eragon his dragon. He had felt Saphira's suspicion. She didn't want to leave him here alone after the latest events.

But Saphira couldn't just let Thorn lay all by himself in the wildness. After all it was the king's dragon that had injured him. Maybe he was still out there, looking for the young dragon and his rider. The dragoness couldn't let one of the last of her kind suffer. And certainly not when it was a youngling.

Her shining blue eyes focused on Eragon.  
_'I'll take care of him. But you'll be careful with the traitor. I know, you don't think he is dangerous, but I say he is, even wounded.' _she said and Eragon could hear her warning tone. Something that she didn't normally use on him, but their enemies.

She casted one last look over the brothers, then spread her wide wings gracefully and got ready to lift herself off the ground. Eragon could see her strong muscles contract before they stretched when she jumped in the air. Eragon turned away from his dragon and covered the beaten form in his arms to protect it against the dust that got whirled up by the strong flaps of the blue wings.

He quickly made his way out of the sand cloud and approached Nasuada's tent. He felt the burning stares of nearby soldiers in his back when he approached the big tent. His chance of reaching it without anyone recognizing Murtagh was getting less with every second he stayed out in the open field. Until now nobody had recognized the Rider, but that could be changed quickly.

Eragon saw Roran approach him but when Eragon shook his head his cousin stopped and stared after the boy that rushed past him. He reached the tent entrance and flashed quickly inside.

Darkness welcomed him. All openings were closed to cold down the air in the tents. And indeed the air was cool, but dusty. It scratched in the lung and made Eragon cough. But sandy air was still better to breathe than hot air.

Eragon hesitated when he saw that there was not much furniture in the room. Just a desk, a chair and a bed. Since there was no other opportunity to lay the injured boy down, Eragon crossed the big living room and steered in the direction of the adjusted bedroom. He was unsure of Nasuada's reaction to the fact that Murtagh would lay in her bed, but now even the light weight of his brother's body was getting too heavy for Eragon to hold.

Carefully he lowered Murtagh on the soft sheet. His head rolled lifeless to one side where it rested on the white pillow. Eragon sat himself next to his motionless friend and brushed the sweaty hair out of his forehead. Murtagh's skin was almost as white as the pillow, his eyes closely shut and his chest rose and fell slightly.

Eragon took with his left hand Murtagh's right and held his own right hand over the sword wound in Murtagh's stomach. If he lost any more blood, even the most powerful healer would not be enough to save him. His Gedwёy Ignasia began to glow softly when Eragon mumbled the healing words.

He felt the power being drawn from his body. He was getting weaker with every second that he used his magic to heal the wound. And being weak was a condition that should be prevented in a time of war when you were the only free rider. Eragon knew that what he was doing was incredibly stupid but didn't stop anyway.

"_Waíse heill" _he murmured over and over again. He saw the wound closing, new flesh grew over the open gasp in the pale skin. Only when the wound had completely closed, he stopped and sat back.

Murtagh looked not better. Only the open wound had closed, the internal bleeding hadn't stopped. But Eragon wasn't strong enough. He was still recovering from the last battle against the soldiers of the Empire. And he wouldn't leave Murtagh alone for one second at the moment, so he wasn't able to get Brisingr. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to use the carefully stored energy in the sapphire. It was the energy he needed for a fight. The fight against Galbatorix … and Murtagh.

He bent down and began to stroke Murtagh's cheek again while whispering softly in his ear.  
"They will be here soon, Nasuada is getting them. You just need to hold on for a short while, you hear? Do this for yourself. For Thorn. For Nasuada. For me. Please…" Eragon's voice broke slightly.

He heard footsteps and rose to turn. The healer had finally arrived.

* * *

**A/N: So hey again...**

**I continued ... hopefully it's okay?**

**Well, I wrote this in English and Geometry since I was bored ... and then in Speech it hit me how to continue, so I got a direction where I wanna take this story now.**

**But it still depends on you and your reaction ... without any reviews I'll probably stop.**

**So anyone wanna continue reading? Yes? Then pleeease review! :)**

**Other than that I just want to tell you that I will be very busy with my TVD story for the next time ... so it will take some time for the next update...**

**So if any Vampire Diaries fan is reading this, check out my other story. But only if you're a Delena shipper ... Stelena's will be disappointed.**

**Until next time,  
LaLaina**

**PS: If Nasuada is OC I'm really sorry, but I don't remember her pretty well ... I just remembered that I'm a huge Nasuada/Murtagh shipper!  
**


	3. III

Chapter 3

When Eragon turned he was met by the shocked impressions of three women. He could see Angela, Arya, and a young woman. The two healers stared openly at the injured Rider. They obviously hadn't expected him to be here. Arya wore her always cool expression but Eragon could see a sparkle in her eyes that he could not really place. He thought he had figured her out by now but apparently he didn't. Was she mad at him for bringing his brother in the camp?

Eragon stood and moved to make room for the more experienced healers.  
"Angela, he needs your help. I closed the wound so that he loses not more blood but I couldn't fix his internal bleedings." said Eragon with urgent voice. Angela's gaze wandered from Murtagh over to Eragon. When she saw the pleading look in his eyes, she rushed over and dropped to her knees next to the young man.

Eragon could see Nasuada enter. She approached them and stood next to Arya. The elf and the girl next to her looked over to their leader. Nasuada motioned the woman over to Murtagh. The girl's eyes were wide and she continued to stare at the Varden leader, but after another demand she quickly made her way over to the kneeling Angela.

Arya turned to Eragon who watched the two murmuring witches.  
"What happened, Eragon? How did you managed to injure and capture him? And where is the Red Dragon?" Arya asked, her voice as cold as ice. She clearly didn't trust these events.

"I didn't do it. I would never do something like that, you know this. And I didn't capture him, his dragon surrendered his rider and himself. Saphira is with Thorn, he too is injured." Eragon answered. He could see suspicion and doubt in Arya's green eyes. She probably thought that this was a trap by Galbatorix. But Eragon had seen how close Murtagh and Thorn were to death. Galbatorix would never weaken his servants so bad since they were far more valuable alive. Something must have happened what made Murtagh turn against the king. If it was really Galbatorix who had harmed him.

"You still didn't tell us what happened."Eragon looked up at Nasuada who had now an expression on her face that looked close to Arya's. Inwardly Eragon sighed. Sometimes it was hard to deal with such cold women.

"Honestly, I don't know. We found them like that. Murtagh was already unconscious and Thorn was close to sleep. I didn't get an answer for this question and you won't get one either. At least not until we make sure that they will survive this." he said. Something in his mind repeated 'survive' over and over again. He couldn't let go of the fear of losing Murtagh.

Nasuada nodded and looked at Angela who had her hand placed over Murtagh's stomach. The witch was mumbling words in the Ancient Language which should help stop the internal bleedings. But Eragon could see that Angela had not any success with her work. She had closed her eyes. Her brows were furrowed and her face tense.

The girl next to her had her hands placed on either side of Murtagh's head and was holding it in place. She too had her eyes tightly shut. Eragon assumed that she was trying to invade Murtagh's mind to see where the damage was and how they could help him.

But they underestimated the Rider's mind. Murtagh had his mind probably well secured, even in unconsciousness. He was far too paranoid. He would not let anybody in; no enemies, no allies. Nobody except for Thorn.

Angela stood and drove the girl away. When the young woman made room for the experienced witch, Angela dropped to her knees again and took in the same position as the girl before her.

Everybody in the tent watch Angela. Eragon could see how Angela's grip on Murtagh's forehead got tighter and he wanted to pull her away from the defenseless boy but he knew that he would make it even worse. Angela was probably the only one who could help his brother right now and he wouldn't disturb her efforts.

Angela's eyes opened and she turned to Eragon. Her blue eyes were filled with uncertainty. As if she had no idea what was wrong with her patient. She motioned the Blue Rider over to her.  
"I can't reach his mind. It's too closely shut. But I need him to open up so that I may be able to stop his suffering. You have to try. Maybe he'll let you in. You were his friend once and you're his brother now." she said and got up.

Eragon hesitated. He doubted that he would be any help. Murtagh wasn't going to let anybody in. And certainly not him. They were enemies now. It didn't matter that they were friends just a short time ago. It didn't matter that they were brothers. They fought on different sides. And they would probably still be on different sides when one of them died.

"I don't think he will let me in. When we want him to open then we need his dragon. But it will have to wait until Thorn is…" began Eragon to express his doubts but he was got off by Arya.

"Eragon, he has no time. If we don't reach him yet then he will die and there is nothing that you can do to prevent it. You love him. And he loves you. He won't fight you, he will recognize you. It's worth a chance at least." Arya's voice was hard and factual. But underneath the harshness of her voice Eragon could hear the Arya who cared about him. And this part of the elf didn't want to see him hurt. Even if it meant to save the enemy.

Eragon turned his gaze away from Arya and looked over to Murtagh. He could feel his feet react to commands that he hadn't given them. He slowly approached the bed and when he reached it, he sunk down on the sheets next to the motionless form. He took Murtagh's limp hand carefully and reached with one hand over to let it rest on the sweaty forehead.

And then he opened his mind and let it float to find the pulsing, weak consciousness that was the Red Rider.

* * *

**A/N: So heyy**

**Yes, I know this is a short chapter ... it's kinda fill chapter since I want a break there ...**

**So people tell me: should this be an ended story or just something in-between?**

**I really want your opinion... so please guys review ... would make me very happy! :)**

**And I would really appreciate reviews so that I know that there are some people out there who don't think "Why did I just opened and read this and wasted precious minutes of my life?"**

**Well at least I hope there is anyone who thinks different...**

**So leave a comment**** ...**

**LaLaina**


	4. IV

Chapter 4:

One of the most significant creatures of this world was gliding through the thin air over the desert. Her azure scales reflected the shining sunlight and it was broken by the scales so that they sparkled even more in beautiful shades of blue. From the ground she was barely visible since the light blue of her belly matched this day's sky perfectly.

But from above her blue body was a huge contrast against the yellow sand. Nobody was able to see her from above however, only another dragon would be able to do so and other than the blue dragon only two other dragons existed at the moment. One of them was the King's dragon and he would never bother to get so far from his home.

He would rather send his accomplice, the young red dragon. But that one was in no condition to attack the blue dragoness. He was seriously wounded and would probably die without help. And that was the reason why the last dragoness of Alagaësia was flying riderless over the desert.

She needed to check on the young dragon and make sure he survived. He was of great significance for the win over the king. At the moment there was only one free dragon in the whole kingdom. Thorn, the red dragon was forced to work for the Empire. Probably against his will; the Varden still weren't sure were his loyalties lay.

The other dragon on the Empire's side was Shruikan, the King's dragon. It was not much known about the huge black dragon, probably because nobody out of court had ever seen him. And the Varden had no contact to the court whatsoever.

Except that just about an hour ago the option to get a spy right in the middle of the camp of the King had been given to the Varden. They hadn't realized that yet, but the great dragoness sure had. The injured young man and his kid dragon would be of great help in the fight against the tyrant. That was if the survived their latest fighting engagement.

The dragon was young, in the eyes of his kind he still was a child, not more than a baby, but the humans saw him as one of the most powerful beings ever. Only Saphira knew what the young dragon had to endure, she was the only one who could sympathize with him. However she would not and her mind was set on it. No matter what, Thorn was not one of her kind, he would not receive gentleness or forgiveness.

The clouds drifted by under Saphira's blue wings, occasionally revealing the sandy ground underneath. Saphira knew that it would not take her long from here on to get to the Red Dragon. She folded her wings in to reduce the catching of the uprising wind and her body sagged down to the earth like a stone would have. In a dive did she fall lower and lower, coming dangerously close to the hard ground. However, she enfolded her large wings in a matter of seconds and began to glide through the warm air with the gracefulness that only a dragon could posses.

Her sharp azure eyes had already taken sight of the large elevation that was the Empire's dragon. His deep red scales stood out from the light ground. For the first time Saphira saw how colorful Thorn really was. The red in his scales varied from a stunning diversity of red accents. While his wings had taken an almost pinkish tone due to the thinness of the leathern skin, the rest of his body was a truly bloody red. From above him Saphira could only see the dark red of the dragon's back but she knew for sure that his belly was lighter. So were his head and tail, they both shared a warm tone of red.

The colors of the dragon's skin did have an important role in the dragon's hierarchy. Some colors dominated, such as the green and brown. And since those colors would be often seen, the dragons holding such colors were dismissed as the standard. Rarity was favored. Seldom colors dominated the high ranks of dragon's society.

Glaedr had taught her how the society of the dragons had worked. She learned which color dominated. She learned that the colors of the dragon's scales may represent their character. And she learned that dragons always watched out for younger ones.

Even when the young ones made mistakes that could destroy everything that you stood for. He was your kind, he was your blood, and you protected him. This instinct had driven the great dragoness back to her injured comrade.

The last few whisks of her wings brought her on the ground and her large paws hit the dirt hard, resulting in a short shake of the earth. Normally Saphira was rather unconcerned of her surroundings but she didn't want to disturb the resting dragon in front of her. As quietly as possible she folded the wings on her back while looking down on the small slender dragon.

Thorn had curled into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible and protecting his most vulnerable body parts like the throat and belly. His wings were protectively folded over his body and shielded it as good as possible. His head had been buried underneath his wings but he awoken by Saphira's arrival and he now peeked out from under them.

When Saphira saw the dragon awake she took a few tentative steps towards him but still perceived enough distance. Thorn raised his head to meet Saphira's lowered one and blinked tiredly in the sun.

'_Murtagh?'_ he asked wearily.

Of course his first concern would be his rider. Saphira knew that she wouldn't think any different if she was in his situation. Compassion welled up in her. She could see that Thorn was close to fall asleep, his eyelids were heavy and it took him his full concentration to stay awake.

'_He's going to be fine. Eragon will take care of him, he'll get him to healers fairly quickly.'_

Her voice had taken a soothing tone and she could feel protectiveness rise up in her when she looked down on the miserable young dragon. Thorn's head had dropped down on the ground and he locked his cloudy gaze with hers.

Motherly instincts, that had not yet risen to her full capacity, began to flutter within her and she carefully took the last few steps that separated the dragons. She settled next to the head of the injured dragon and curled her tail around her front paws before quietly persuade Thorn to rest.

'_Sleep, Thorn. Your family is watching over you. No harm will fall on you or your rider. Sleep, young one. Sleep.'_

The Red Dragon submissive gave in to the soothing voice of the great dragoness.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I'm still alive...**

**I know it's been a while ... heck more than a while! more like a century... but I assure you that I kept this story alive in my head.**

**I can't let it go because a long time ago Inheritance stole a piece of my soul and this little fic is my opportunity to get it back...**

**So even though I won't be updating constantly, I won't banish this story out of my heart.**

**It will be continued!**

**So to the chapter itself:**

**I read the request for a Saphira and Thorn chapter... and even before that comment I had my mind set on getting them in the next chapter.**

**So here it is!**

**And I must say that I'm a supporter of Saphira/Thorn... because who knows how the green dragon will be like? Or his rider?**

**At least Murtagh and Eragon are brothers so their dragons may share some kind of this connection...**

**Just a random thought...**

**See ya next time... and maybe I'll finish the next chapter before my birthday, who knows...**

**LaLaina**


	5. V

Chapter 5:

Eragon gently probed the walls surrounding his brother's mind. He knew how strong they were and he could already see his failure on entering his mind. But there was this nagging feeling deep buried in his heart that would not let him give up before he even tried. It wouldn't let him give up even if he was met with the strongest wall a magician had ever seen.

Carefully he tapped against the pulsing conscience that his brother was. And nothing prepared him for the sudden jolt that had him fall forward into darkness. He felt himself falling and his own imagination swept him away into this unreal place that would never exist outside the boundaries of his mind. Just as sudden as it started the swirling blackness faded away, leaving him swaying and disorientated in the middle of vastness.

Eragon's vision was grey, in fact everything around him was. The sky above his head had taken on the color of dark grey, black clouds decorating the dark sky occasionally lightened by the flash of an ascending lightning bolt. Deep sounding thunder accompanied the light that illuminated the scenery.

In front of Eragon rose dark and threatening a tall wall. How high it actually reached into the sky was beyond Eragon for the top of the wall was buried in the clouds. The next lighting strike lightened up the rough surface of the stones surrounding the dark opening of the gate that allowed entrance to the castle that must be lying beyond.

But as soon as Eragon took a step towards the opening, he could feel the darkness and cold emerging from the gate. It enclosed him, merging with his inherent fear of the unknown and possible danger. It left little space for the courage of the Dragonrider but the inner battle of dread and braveness was finally determined by the persistence of the boldness of the young rider.

He stepped out of the fog of promised misery surrounding his heart and mind, and took another step towards the gaping darkness ahead of him. The responds wasn't immediate; it took him another handful steps to reach the gate. But with every step he felt the cold tightening up the grip on his heart.

He still fought forward though, one step at a time until he found himself standing just under the portal. He was slightly panting, his breath leaving his mouth in hard huffs that instantly turned into fogged crystals hanging in the cold air. Eragon could feel his hands trembling by his side, the cold forcing his body to shiver while numbing his normally too focused mind.

He looked around the vast emptiness that seemed to occupy his brother's mind. He stood in what looked like a desert, dark sand to either side of him, only interspersed by withered or charred trees that stood black and dead. The whole picture in front of him was illuminated by a bright orange fire along the horizon.

Disbelieving Eragon turned back to the dark wall.

"Murtagh!" he shouted, hoping to get a reaction from the high castle that represented the shit mind of the young rider. But nothing changed. "Murtagh!"

He took another step towards the gate, determined to reach the Red Rider. And something made him stop short in his tracks.

The air before him in the gateway started to flicker and a dark glow began to shimmer. Eragon could feel the magic that surrounded the dark silhouette that started to appear out of the flickering air. He recognized his brother even before the familiar features finally stopped to shimmer in and out of his view. Eragon exhaled slowly, feeling an incredible weight being lifted off his heart as he saw the young man who seemingly was unharmed. "Murtagh."

Pale eyes met Eragon's gaze and he couldn't help but take another step forward as he saw the confusion written in them. Murtagh looked at him, obviously distraught by the sudden appearance of his younger brother and Eragon suddenly felt unsure of himself and came to a halt.

"Murtagh?" he called out again only to be met by a slight tremor running through his brother's body but otherwise complete silence. The Red Rider stared through him, his pupil wide blown, the black emptiness swallowing the mesmerizing silver of his eyes.

While the Rider was motionless, the scenery changed dramatically. Heavy rain began to crash onto the dry sand, soaking it up and creating muddy moisture that let Eragon slowly sink into the sticky mud. The walls of the mind's dungeon were now glowing with dark fire.

Black flames, occasionally interlaced with an unnatural electric blue, licked up the stones. There was a hissing sound whenever the raindrops hit one of the flames, the angry sound vibrating through Eragon's skull. The wind had picked up and blew now furiously around Eragon's still figure. Angry lashes of wind whipped uncontrolled across Eragon's face and as he continued to look into the motionless stare that met him, he suddenly understood.

Murtagh was trapped. Trapped in his own mind. With no way to escape. He couldn't escape his thoughts and those were destroying him. The destruction, the vastness, the darkness, they were Murtagh's mind, his thoughts. Eragon felt dead by just being here for a short time. Murtagh must have died a long time in here.

Eragon's focus snapped back to his brother and without thinking he threw himself on the Rider. Their bodies collided and Eragon wrapped his arms around the still form that was rigid pressed against his chest. He tilted his head up to murmur into Murtagh's ear.

"Murtagh! Listen to me. You've got to come back. Hear me? Come back!"

But he got no responds.

"Come on. Murtagh! Stop it, it's killing you! Come back." His voice had risen and he started to shake the man in his arms. "Come on. Come on. Come. On! Murtagh!"

He shook him again but this time Murtagh's head lolled limply forward to rest on Eragon's shoulder while his knees buckled and he sank against the younger rider and towards the ground. Eragon went with him, the arms still firmly secured around the back of the young man. Murtagh rested now comfortable between Eragon's spread tights against his chest. Not knowing how to handle the situation, Eragon buried his right hand in his brother's thick hair and let his forehead sink to lie on soft strands before he began to mumble soothing into the hair.

"What did he do to you? How could he break you? He destroyed you. It's like you died in here and nobody even noticed. He destroyed your mind, he poisoned it and…"

…and he felt the body shutter against him. This was the first reaction the body of his brother gave to his presence. Obviously Murtagh's mind had picked up on his rambling. And Eragon had to encourage this. Maybe Murtagh would come out of wherever he was hiding.

"Shh. You're safe. And your dragon's safe. Galbatorix won't hurt you again."

And again he felt the limp form jerk. This time Eragon was sure of the connection.

"It was him, right? Galbatorix?" Eragon asked, even though he had been sure of this since he saw the injuries on Thorn's back. A small jerk confirmed his assumptions and hope and determination immediately sparked up in Eragon.

"You have to tell me what he did. We can help you. We _will_ help you! Just tell me what he did." His voice wavered slightly but his words were firm. Eragon held the Red Rider as he began to convulse against him and Murtagh's head jerked back to stare at Eragon, his eyes quickly transforming from black to silver and back. They stayed silver for a few seconds before quickly switching to the endless darkness of his pupils, but every time the change happened he could see more silver in them.

Murtagh was still violently shaking but Eragon could feel how the Rider was slowly coming back to his senses, how his mind cleared. The clouds above his head broke and he could feel a lonely ray of sun hit his back.

Once again he shook his brother. "What did he do? Come on, Murtagh, tell me! How is he doing that to you?" he pleaded desperately with the older boy.

Murtagh's eyes flashed, bright steel blazing, and his body stiffened. His eyes met Eragon's and his lips twitched before Eragon could hear the sound of a whisper.

"'s pois'n."

It was barely audible and before Eragon could comprehend anything, Murtagh slummed against his chest while Eragon was grabbed by an invisible force and was dragged backwards into an unknown darkness.

* * *

**A/N: **

**So she is back.**

**Yeah, I haven't read the last installment of the Eragon books yet. But honestly I don't care. **

**So here is another chapter for this little Eragon story.**

**Hope you enjoy and leave me some lovely feedback. Thank you.**

**Until next time... **

**LaLaina**


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